#Moroccan Trader

[mariacallous]

Some years ago, while celebrating Hanukkah at the home of Moroccan Jewish friends, I got my first taste of sfenj. I knew (and loved) the Israeli jelly donuts called sufganiyot, but sfenj, while also donuts, were something different. The yeasted dough was familiarly puffy, but instead of being shaped into a plump round, it was formed into rings. And instead of sufganiyot’s jam filling and snowy cap of powdered sugar, my friends served sfenj two ways: dipped into granulated sugar or generously drizzled with an orange-blossom-scented syrup. Naturally, I was smitten with this new-to-me expression of Hanukkah frying.

A few years after tasting sfenj, I learned about sfingi — another doughy fritter, which hails from Southern Italy and can be found in many Italian American bakeries. The term “sfingi” refers to a couple of different pastries, including simple, free-form donut holes rolled in sugar, and a more elaborate fried round that gets topped or filled with sweetened ricotta (think: cannoli filling) and sweet Amarena cherries. In Naples, the fritters are sometimes called zeppole, but in Sicily and other parts of Southern Italy, they usually go by sfingi or, to further confuse matters, sfinci. 

Some Italian families make sfingi to celebrate Christmas, but they really shine on March 19th, or Saint Joseph’s Day, which honors the Virgin Mary’s husband. On that day, many Italians — particularly Sicilians who consider St. Joseph to be their patron saint — pull out all the stops to throw a feast that often ends with sfingi and other decadent sweets. 

Sfenj. Sfingi. Two donuts with remarkably similar names. There had to be a connection, right? As it turns out, the North African Hanukkah treat and Southern Italy’s feast-day fritter likely do share a common ancestor. The name for both pastries comes from the Arabic word “isfenj,” which translates to“sponge,” and refers to the way dough soaks up oil while it fries, and also to its bouncy texture. (Interestingly, sufganiyot also means sponge in Hebrew, suggesting a linguistic connection between all three donuts.)

This connection also hints to the influence that Arabic cuisine had across both North Africa and Southern Italy. According to some historical accounts, sfenj originated in Moorish Spain in the Middle Ages. (The era and region similarly gave rise to the traditional Sephardic Hanukkah dish, bimuelos — small, sweet fritters that are often round in shape.) From there, the dish spread to places where Moorish traders traveled, including the Maghreb – North African countries that border the Mediterranean Sea.

Today, sfenj are popular across Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia and Libya. In Morocco, they were traditionally prepared by sufnajeen — bakers dedicated to the craft of making sfenj. They were (and are) considered an everyday breakfast pastry or street food snack, and are served alongside coffee or mint tea. 

Jewish Moroccans, meanwhile, adopted the fritter for Hanukkah, when Jews traditionally eat foods fried in oil. They introduced sfenj to Israel when they immigrated there in the mid-20th century. In Israel, however, sfenj never caught on in quite the same way as sufganiyot. Moroccan Jewish families still make them, and they’re available in food markets nationwide, but you are not likely to see piles of sfenj in bakery windows across Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, they way you will sufganiyot.

Sfingi, meanwhile, hail from Palermo, Sicily’s capital. The recipe for the ricotta-cream-filled version was invented by nuns, who adapted the dessert from Arabic cuisine and dedicated it to St. Joseph. In the weeks leading up to St. Joseph’s Day, you will find sfingi di San Giuseppe – in all of its fried, cream-filled glory — in bakeries across Southern Italy, and in communities across the world that are home to Southern Italian communities.

I like to joke that the reason Hanukkah lasts for eight nights is so home cooks can dedicate each night to a different fried treat. From potato latkes and sufganiyot to bimuelos and sfenj, there is no shortage of Hanukkah dishes to celebrate. But this year, if my patience for frying (and my appetite for fried foods!) hold, I might just add sfingi to my Hanukkah menu.

[jackhkeynes]

Lower Mendeva

Lower Mendeva (Borlish Mendeva Bassem /ˌmɛn.deˈva ˈba.sɛm/) is a geographical region comprising the southern section of the continent of Mendeva [North America], located west of the Mendevan Gulf [Gulf of Mexico]. The term sometimes also includes the islands of the Arcabil [Caribbean], which are located within said Gulf.

Contact between Lower Mendeva and the Vetomund [Old World] began in the late fifteenth century with merchant ships from the Morrack [Moroccan] New World Company (established by Malik Munir al-Hamdawi in 1463). In turn, traders therefrom encountered the peoples of the Arcabil, the Mashick [Aztec] Empire in Lower Mendeva, and further south the Tavancine [Incan] Empire in Cappatia [South America].

The region is predominated by the polity of Mashick [~Mexico], which stretches from coast to coast and so far north as to border Mivock [~California] in the west and Taisha [~Texas] in the east.

Many barrick [electric] innovations of the late Workshop period came out of Lower Mendeva, likely due to practical concerns around the rapid spread of wired post (there being little previous adoption of the flag-lamp steeplemesh in the region to displace).

By the late twentieth century, this region had become major exporters of foods such as mause [bananas] and amback [mangoes].

Many trade goods originated in Lower Mendeva, including billrod [cochineal] dye, shockle [chocolate], shadome [tomatoes] and tashban [vanilla].

[sage-a-licious]

I gave my mom until last night to choose her Mother’s Day meal. I should have known she’d switch things up at the last minute. I don’t think she does it consciously but everything has to be complicated. Especially holidays. She ended up choosing Moroccan Lemon Chicken, a dish she’s never had. And rice pilaf and brussels sprouts on the side. And she added dessert. So I had to come up with a quick dessert and figure where to source a couple of the ingredients for the main like saffron and preserved lemons. I got all the ingredients and will start cooking tomorrow. She’s already bragged to all her co-workers that I’m making her a meal so I think this was a good way to go. I’m doing a sugar cookie based tart-like thing for dessert with Trader Joe’s lemon curd and some raspberries to make it easy. I’m ready to relax tonight.

[natalehr]

the spring chef-up roundup

1. My remake of Lighthouse Bakery’s California salad (we added chicken🤭). Butter lettuce and romaine from the garden, spring mix, cucumber, tomato, red onion, avocado, walnuts, feta - not pictured: dill dressing.

2. Drew & I occasionally do a week where we each make a surprise dinner. Mine was a pesto tortellini pasta

3. Moroccan inspired bowls - chicken, quinoa, kale from the garden, roasted cauliflower and chickpeas, avocado tahini, shit ton of herbs

4. Trader Joe’s pizza tik tok recipe lol .. anything with burrata slaps to me idk

5. Chipotle leftovers breakfast “migas”

6. Lil dinner bowl: chicken, potatoes, chickpeas, asparagus, salad from the garden

7. 🤌🏻 lemon chicken bucatini with burrata

8. Cobb Salad with the avocado tahini again bc cannot get enough 🥑🥗

9. The garden 🥬🌿🍓

[fadedlovemp3]

everyone drink some trader joe’s moroccan mint green tea sitting in the sun [COMMAND]

[mayarism]

4.20.24 letter to abby

Hi Abby,

I’m glad we got to call this morning – we were on the phone for over two hours. During that time, I had washed my sheets, re-organized/re-arranged the furniture in my room, sorted through random objects, and finally do feel a bit more relief knowing where things are in my room. After washing my sheets, I took the Q69 bus to Trader Joe’s (about a 10-15 minute ride and then a 10 minute walk). I still don’t know exactly how to shop for groceries. I make sure to have random vegetables and sources of protein, and then quick snacks (bananas and yogurt). The cashier today was on autopilot and scanned my library book I had left in the grocery cart, and we both had a good laugh out of it.

I finished reading “Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits” today. (The library book in question). It’s a story of different Moroccans that try to take a boat to Spain – or rather, the multiple stories that led them to this point of desperation choosing to leave, how their lives intersect, the hardships they face and the small ways they still claim dignity for themselves. While reading, I thought back to my trip in Morocco in October. This had been my first time traveling alone internationally, and I’m still trying to understand how that experience changed me. I was coming from the West, an American tourist, yet Moroccans read me as a tourist from the “East” and didn’t know how to price things or treat me – well, how to read & interpret me – except for the obvious fact that I was a tourist regardless. To prepare for the trip, I tried (and did) read history of North Africa and Moroccan literature; and in many ways the colonization & economic development of the country mirrored & paralleled that of the Philippines.

But the sad part was how I didn’t speak French or Arabic, and my ability to speak with the locals was a limiting factor in what I was able to get out of my trip. I wanted to understand what it meant to live in Morocco; and how they interpreted us. To some degree I was able to speak with people. A limited interaction over tea with an eager shopkeeper of essential oils, tea, perfume bars, who told me why he couldn’t visit America when I naively asked. The tour guide when I hiked the Atlas mountains, who had so much for his land and village, who wore second-hand shoes his uncle (who had moved to Europe after marrying a European citizen) had been able to send him.

Being alone in Morocco, unable to connect with strangers because I couldn’t speak the language, was lonely. But the valuable lesson I learned from it was that I could do it; and that the world is more than this. I hated coming in there as a tourist who could just as easily leave, just another westerner coming in and taking and consuming. But at the same time it sharpened my resolve to not accept the world for what it was. I also went to an anti-capitalist conference while I was there; spoke to organizers who got arrested for organizing in the Philippines; I was in Morocco when Hamas broke through the wall and everything changed from there.

Anyways, I’m rambling enough about my reflections on Morocco.

What artists have you been listening to lately? What poems have you read, that have been breaking your heart? What are the little things that you want to remember about this house on Mullen Road, that you want to carry with you into the future? what about it will you miss?

what do the tiny details of our beloved home, that hold us and our lives for so long, make you remember?

We had a juniper tree, once. Our house was lilac, once. It held us through all the moments we detangled the light of the Christmas tree, the hours we practiced the violin, when we played our “town by the creek,” when I’d try to make a secret code via knocking through our bedroom walls. our little library in the basement, the dining table where we ate breakfast together on Sundays before church as classical music played. The pine tree in the back grew along with us. I used to sit outside my bedroom window, on the roof. The view of our quiet street from our windows that face East. when we grew up, what did we dream for ourselves?

The house is an anchor that we can return to. That’s what home is. it connects to our past so we don’t forget. I don’t want to forget the way sunlight fell on our kitchen table, how it poure into our bedrooms in the morning, how lovely and peaceful and promising and full of love this home once was. or at least, innocence and future. I hope this ending can be a beginning for you, even though it’s a cruel way to start a new chapter. I hate that I escaped without you. I think maybe – you have so much life left. This is just the start of you really owning and entering the freedom of starting again.

I love you always, your sister

[marrakeshminibus]

The Marrakesh Tapestry: Threads of History, Culture, and Charm

Marrakesh, the Red City of Morocco, is a place where history, culture, and charm are woven together like the intricate patterns of a traditional Moroccan tapestry. From the moment you step into this vibrant city, you are enveloped by its rich heritage, diverse culture, and the unmistakable warmth of its people. Marrakesh is more than just a destination; it's a living, breathing tapestry of experiences that captivate the senses and linger in the memory long after you've left.

A Historical Weave

The history of Marrakesh is a rich tapestry in itself, dating back nearly a thousand years. Founded in 1070 by the Almoravid dynasty, the city quickly grew into a cultural and religious center, attracting scholars, artists, and traders from across the Islamic world and beyond. The legacy of these early influences can still be felt today in the city's architecture, art, and customs.

The medina, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is the heart of Marrakesh's historical charm. Its labyrinthine streets are lined with ancient buildings, each telling a story of the city’s past. The Koutoubia Mosque, with its towering minaret, serves as a timeless symbol of Marrakesh's Islamic heritage. Nearby, the Saadian Tombs and the Ben Youssef Madrasa offer glimpses into the city’s grand architectural traditions, adorned with delicate carvings and intricate tile work.

Cultural Threads

Marrakesh is a melting pot of cultures, where Berber, Arab, and Andalusian influences intertwine seamlessly. The city’s vibrant souks are a testament to this cultural fusion. Wandering through the bustling markets, you’ll find a dizzying array of goods, from handwoven rugs and spices to leather goods and traditional Berber jewelry. Each item tells a story, a piece of Marrakesh's diverse cultural fabric.

One of the most enchanting aspects of Marrakesh is its music. The city is a hub for traditional Moroccan music, particularly the rhythmic beats of Gnawa, a genre rooted in West African spiritual traditions. You can often hear the hypnotic sounds of Gnawa music echoing through the medina, adding another layer to Marrakesh’s cultural tapestry.

Food is another essential thread in Marrakesh’s cultural weave. The city’s cuisine is a feast for the senses, offering a blend of flavors and aromas that reflect its diverse heritage. From the savory tagines and couscous to the sweet delights of pastilla and Moroccan mint tea, every meal is an opportunity to taste the city’s history and culture.

The Charm of Everyday Life

Beyond the historical landmarks and cultural treasures, Marrakesh’s true charm lies in its everyday life. The city's streets are alive with the hustle and bustle of daily activities, from the call to prayer echoing from the mosques to the lively banter of shopkeepers in the souks. The people of Marrakesh are known for their hospitality, welcoming visitors with open arms and a warm smile.

To truly immerse yourself in the charm of Marrakesh, there is no better way than by exploring the city with the Marrakesh Minibus, the best travel agency in Marrakesh. This exceptional service offers a unique and comfortable way to experience the city, weaving through its narrow streets and bustling squares with ease. The Marrakesh Minibus isn’t just a means of transportation; it’s your gateway to the heart of the city, connecting you with its rich history, vibrant culture, and everyday life.

Weaving Your Own Story with Marrakesh Minibus

Marrakesh is not just a city to visit; it’s a place to experience. With the Marrakesh Minibus, every corner of the city becomes accessible, offering you the chance to weave your own story into its tapestry. Whether you’re exploring the vibrant souks, savoring the flavors of Moroccan cuisine, or simply wandering through the medina’s winding streets, Marrakesh Minibus ensures that your journey is smooth, memorable, and deeply connected to the essence of the city.

As you travel through Marrakesh with the Marrakesh Minibus, you’ll not only witness the city’s most iconic sights but also discover hidden gems that many travelers might miss. The knowledgeable guides and drivers, who are as passionate about Marrakesh as they are about providing excellent service, will share insights and stories that add depth to your experience. They help you understand the significance of the places you visit, ensuring that every stop on your journey adds another thread to the tapestry of your Marrakesh adventure.

The Marrakesh tapestry is one of history, culture, and charm, and with Marrakesh Minibus, you have the opportunity to experience it all with ease and comfort. Each visitor who comes to Marrakesh adds their own thread to the weave, and Marrakesh Minibus is here to make sure your thread is woven in seamlessly. So, the next time you find yourself in the Red City, trust Marrakesh Minibus to guide you through this intricate and enchanting tapestry – and know that you’re now a part of it too.

Marrakesh Minibus.

Best Minibus Service in Marrakesh

Book Now

[ebelal56-blog]

How Muslim Travelers Created The Silk Road (Storytime)

The Silk Road was a network of trade routes that connected the East and West from China to the Mediterranean Sea, facilitating not only the exchange of goods but also culture, religion, and knowledge. Muslim travelers played a significant role in the development and prosperity of the Silk Road, particularly during the Islamic Golden Age (8th to 14th centuries). Muslim Travelers Along the Silk Road Trade and Commerce: Muslim merchants were among the most prominent traders on the Silk Road. They traded goods such as silk, spices, textiles, and precious metals. Their trade activities helped spread Islamic culture and influence across Central Asia and beyond. Cultural Exchange: Muslim travelers brought with them not only goods but also their culture, science, and technology. They introduced innovations in various fields such as medicine, astronomy, mathematics, and architecture. Religious Influence: The spread of Islam along the Silk Road was facilitated by Muslim traders and missionaries (Sufis). Cities along the Silk Road became centers of Islamic learning and culture. The religion's spread was often peaceful, facilitated by trade relationships and the establishment of Islamic educational institutions. Notable Travelers: Ibn Battuta: A Moroccan scholar and traveler who embarked on a journey through the Silk Road in the 14th century. His travels covered large parts of the Islamic world, extending into Central Asia, South Asia, Southeast Asia, and China. Zheng He: A Chinese Muslim admiral who led seven voyages from China to the Indian Ocean, demonstrating the maritime dimension of the Silk Road during the Ming Dynasty. Building Cities Along the Silk Road Strategic Locations: Cities were often established at strategic points along the Silk Road, such as caravanserais (roadside inns) and oases, which provided rest and resupply points for traders and their caravans. Urban Development: Muslim rulers and traders contributed to the urban development of many cities along the Silk Road. They built mosques, madrasas (educational institutions), and markets, turning these cities into vibrant centers of trade and culture. Notable Cities: Samarkand: Located in present-day Uzbekistan, Samarkand was one of the most important cities along the Silk Road. It flourished under the Timurids and became a major center of Islamic learning and culture. Bukhara: Another key city in Uzbekistan, Bukhara was known for its mosques, madrasas, and as a hub of Islamic scholarship. Kashgar: Situated in the Xinjiang region of China, Kashgar was a crucial trading post and cultural melting pot, blending Islamic, Chinese, and Central Asian influences. Architectural Contributions: Muslim architects introduced various styles and techniques, such as the use of intricate tile work, domes, and minarets. These architectural contributions can be seen in the structures that still stand in many Silk Road cities today.

[bu1410]

Good afternoon TUMBLR - March 9th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Ch. XI.3 - Morocco - 1989 - 1991

TAROUDANT - MARRAKECH

Like every year, at the end of the Holy month of Ramadan there were the festive days of Eid el Fitr. Officially lasting two days, but infact we could count in a week of rest.

The trains, the CTM (La setième in local language) and the collective Grand Taxis - generally old Mercedes or Pegeot 504s that connected the various cities of Morocco, increased ticket prices based on the proximity of the Eid date. The workers began to ''flee'' in the days preceding the festival, with the excuse of the long journeys they had to face to reach their places of origin (mon bled) and the scarcity of means of transport.

We decided to spend the holiday visiting Taroudant and than Marrakesh. Taroudant, a town about 80 km from Agadir, is known as the "Grandmother of Marrakech" because it looks like a smaller Marrakech with its surrounding ramparts. In the 16th century, the Saadi dynasty briefly used Taroudant as its capital before moving its royal seat to Marrakesh. Today, the town has the feel of a small walled market town on a caravan route.

We stayed overnight in a beautiful Arab-style hotel, with lush gardens and a beautiful swimming pool right next to the ocher walls that surround the city, 8 km long. I remember that Andrea had a lot of fun in that pool, and when it was time to leave it he stung his hands and feet because he didn't want to go.

The next day, after having studied the road map (GOOGLE MAP did not yet exist) we decided to leave for Marrakesh, even passing through the legendary Tizi n'Tichka (literally ''pasture pass''), a pass that rises to the considerable altitude of 2,260 meters and which, crossing the High Atlas, connects the Taroudant valley with Marrakech. At its peak you can admire the highest peak in North Africa, Mount Toubkal 4,167 meters high (from the Berber Tugg Akal the ''One who looks down on the Earth'').

It was a trip that I remember with particular pleasure for the wild beauty of the places we crossed. At a certain point, after long kilometers of descent full of hairpin bends, Marrakech appeared in the light of the sunset, further accentuating the red-ochre color of its walls and ancient buildings. We spent a couple of days in Old Capital in a nice hotel which I think today is called Ryad Mogador, and then we returned to Agadir.

TAFRAOUT

After some time had passed since the failed visit to the caves, Bozon tried to try to regain some credit. He therefore proposed a trip to us which first consisted of a stop in Tiznit - about a hundred kilometers south of Agadir, and then an overnight stay in Tafraout, an inland town.

Tiznit is a small Berber city, famous above all for its artisans who work with silver and steel to make jewellery, swords, inlaid knives, a whole variety of beautiful objects which are made in the traditional way in the kasbah's workshops.

In addition to the three of us, Bozon, my colleague Alfio and his wif, who recently arrived from Italy, were taking part in the 2-day excursion.

After the pleasant visit to Tiznit, we headed towards Tafraout, at a distance of about 100 kilometers, deep on Berber territory. A winding but well-maintained mountain road, with a pass at 1,230 meters above sea level, where a wealthy Berber trader who emigrated to France built a large hotel. The hotel was visible from far away, surrounded as it is by the ocher of the bare mountains. Stubborn date palms grow here and there.

Hotel Kerdous - Tafraout, Morocco

Tafroute is renowned for the cultivation of almonds, the basic fruit for many traditional Moroccan pastry desserts.

About 8 km from Tafroute there is the famous area of the painted rocks. Jean Verame, a Belgian artist, brought in 19 tons of paint of various colors in the late 1980s and than painted the rocks with the help of local people.

And that's where we spent the day, on a sort of plateau surrounded by large, colorful granite rocks, some used like a primary school notebook, with black rods on a white background or vice versa. At a certain point, however, here is the usual unexpected event of the day: this time it is offered to us by Alfio who, as sea man, thinks he can transforming himself into a boulder free climber. Without saying a word to anyone (what Sardinian would he be if he spoke to someone about his intentions?) having chosen a rock he began to climb it. Till to the point of no return, in the sense that at about 15 - 20 meters from the ground he no longer knew how to go up or come down. Mrs. Curreli, having noticed her husband's impasse, began at first to shout at her husband nasty insults (which we did not understand the meaning, given that they were pronounced in strict Sardinian) then with suggestion on how to get down from the uncomfortable position.

- Hang on there……put your foot lower……be careful not to fall…idiot '' Alfio, poor thing, was in a panic, and we all could see it from the tremor that shooked his legs and feet, resting on the precarious rock's niches. Bozon and I were amused at first, but we start to be worry when we saw that the situation was becoming critical. We therefore made sure to get up as close as possible to Alfio, to comfort him and suggest the best way to get off. In the meantime I asked Mrs. Curreli to stop shouting. In short, after a series of maneuvers while telling encouraging words - ''come on, you're doing well…. like this…. like that …slowly…no worry …'' we managed to bring Alfio back to the ground. The guy, once lying on the lawn, had a sort of fainting spell, which did not prevent his wife from hurling yet another series of insults at him.......

We returned to Agadir via the R105 national road, a good road passing through Ait Baha, with breathtaking views of the Anti-Atlas.

GULF WAR It was August 2, 1990 and na ews shocked the entire World: Iraq, with a surprising offensive launched during the night, had invaded neighboring Kuwait!! Morocco, a moderate Arab country, assumed an equidistance position on the conflict through a televised speech by His Majesty Hassan II. A moderation action through privileged diplomatic channels was matched by concern about the protection of the Holy Places of Mecca and Medina - currently not directly affected by the conflict. Morocco in any case sent a symbolic contingent of 1,500 soldiers, after the agreement with Saudi Arabia, to defend Mecca and Medina in the event of an attack. The tension was felt throughout Morocco, with demonstrations by the population in open support of Saddam. Even in the site offices, Moroccans showed open support for Saddam, in open contrast to the official positions of the Government. There were also a couple of curious episodes, due to the fact that my Range Rover still had the red license plate of Bahrain, a Gulf Emirate which for obvious reasons since the beginning of the conflict had sided with Kuwait and the nascent coalition led from the USA. One day I stopped at a petrol station to fill up with petrol, and the guy addressed me with phrases in Arabic and French, making me understand that ''there was no fuel for the traitors of the Iraqi brothers''!! I finally managed to make him understand that I was not Bahraini, but Italian, that I had bought the car years ago there– and so I got the petrol. Another unpleasant episode happened a few days later – after a breakfast at the restaurantJardin d'Eau. I was leaving the place, and fortunately M. David accompanied me. A crowd of youngster were kicking the my car for the same reason: they had seen the Bahrain license plate and believed that the ''traitors of the great leader Saddam needed to be taught a lesson''!! David managed to bring them to their senses, making them feel ashamed for what they were doing to a car belonging to a ''Respectable Italian engineer working at the New Aeroport d'Agadir''!! In any case, the Gulf War had already generated a phenomenon that, at the time, I couldn't understand: all the foreign tourists had suddenly disappeared from Agadir (and I presumed from all over Morocco), causing the closure of hotels, restaurants and travel agencies. And of all the consequences that the presence of foreigners set in motion. The reason behind this was that since Morocco is an Arab country, people believe it could somehow become involved in the conflict at any moment. Hence all foregneirs fled a country situated 5,000 km away from the war front! We therefore arrived in a state of high tension on January 15, 1991, when His Majesty King Hassan II spoke to the world and to the nation, in a heartfelt message to "brother Saddam", clearly saying that his was "the last appeal before the possible catastrophe''. We therefore understood that the time for the American attack was imminent, and in fact during the night the bombers of the Coalition of 39 countries attacked Kuwait and Iraq simultaneously. My Boss, Alfonzo, based on the instructions received from the Company headquarters, ordered us not to move from home. And for three long days it was like thas: a grave silence had descended over the city - only the police of Gendarmerie Nationale circulated the streets, even if officially the Authorities had not declared any restrictions on free movement. One of the statements that made us understand the Moroccans' state of mind towards us materialized following the shooting down and capture of an Italian Tornado fighter. Some people were waiting for us that day at the entrance to the site offices, and welcomed us saying:  ''Nous avons abattue un de vos jet'' (We shot down one of your jets) A somewhat grotesque statement, if we consider that Morocco did not participate in the war - and therefore that ''we'' meant total adherence to the Iraqi cause, seen as Pan-Arab and against the American Imperialists and their allies.

[saudisports]

"The Beauty of Henna: A Cultural and Historical Perspective on this Timeless Body Art"

Henna, with its vibrant hues and intricate patterns, transcends mere adornment. It's a tapestry woven with culture, history, and artistry, leaving an indelible mark on bodies and souls for millennia. Let's embark on a journey through the captivating world of henna, exploring its evolution, symbolism, and enduring beauty.

A Timeworn Tale:

Ancient Origins: The earliest traces of henna use date back to 5,000 BC in ancient Egypt, adorning pharaohs and gracing mummies. Its journey then wove through civilizations, gracing the hands of Cleopatra and staining the palms of Silk Road traders.

Cultural Tapestry: From the vibrant mehndi traditions of India to the intricate designs gracing Moroccan brides, henna became deeply embedded in diverse cultures. It symbolized joy in celebrations, blessings in weddings, and protection in rituals.

Evolution of Art: Henna designs evolved like languages, reflecting cultural influences and artistic expressions. Floral motifs bloomed in India, geometric patterns danced in the Arab world, and bold lines pulsed with life in Africa.

Symbolism Unveiled:

Beyond Aesthetics: Each intricate swirl and delicate line held deeper meaning. In some cultures, henna symbolized fertility and prosperity, while in others, it represented spiritual connection and warding off evil spirits.

Personal Expression: Women adorned their hands and feet with intricate designs, each a unique story whispered through henna. It expressed emotions, marked life stages, and celebrated traditions.

Enduring Legacy: Despite modernization, henna's allure persists. It adorns bodies at festivals, graces fashion runways, and serves as a reminder of cultural heritage for generations.

A Timeless Allure:

More Than Just Art: The beauty of henna lies not just in its visual appeal, but in its ability to connect us to history, culture, and personal expression. It's a living art form, evolving with time yet preserving its timeless essence.

Cultural Exchange: Applying henna transcends geographical boundaries, fostering cultural exchange and appreciation. It allows us to share stories, traditions, and the beauty of diverse artistic expressions.

A Personal Canvas: Today, henna offers a unique way to adorn ourselves with cultural symbolism and personal meaning. It empowers individuals to express their heritage, tell their stories, and connect with their inner artist.

Explore and Celebrate:

Delve Deeper: Immerse yourself in the rich history and diverse traditions of henna. Explore museums, attend workshops, and learn about the symbolism behind different designs.

Support Artisans: Choose henna artists who value cultural authenticity and use high-quality, ethically sourced henna. Your patronage empowers communities and preserves this art form.

Embrace Your Story: Consider getting henna done, not just for the aesthetics, but to connect with your heritage, express your individuality, and celebrate the timeless beauty of this cultural gem.

Henna's story is far from over. As it continues to evolve and adorn bodies across the globe, it reminds us of the power of art, tradition, and the enduring beauty of cultural expression. So, let's celebrate henna, not just for its vibrant hues, but for the stories it whispers and the connections it fosters, reminding us that true beauty lies in the tapestry of cultures and individual narratives it adorns.

source:أفضل أنواع الحناء للشعر الأبيض

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Vintage Moroccan Carved and Inlaid Chess Game Table ebay Bucks County Estate Traders

[dry-valleys]

Amazighity is foundational to North Africa; it is arguably the single socioethnic charachteristic that distinguishes the Maghrib from the Middle East.

Emily Benichou Gottreich.

The second part in my Morocco series (please see here, here, here, here and here for the others).

Leaving Marrakech, we passed hotels, golf courses, apartment blocks which house and will soon house more of the booming Moroccan middle class, and many more of the seemingly endless buildings on the edge of town which are being hewn from the red earth.

But end they did, because we were soon in rural Morocco, home of the Berber/Amazigh who have lived here for millennia and whose language and culture are in everyday use in homes and schools.

The Berber were overlaid by other peoples; parts of what is now Morocco were colonised by the Phoenicians and Carthaginians and what became the province of Mauritania was part of the Roman Empire from 40 AD to 429 AD.

In 709 AD Morocco was conquered by the Arabs; they brought the Arab language and Muslim religion which are still here, and Morocco formed part of the Andalusian empire which spanned most of North Africa and most of what is now Spain and whose capital was Marrakech (founded by the Berber Almoravid dynasty in 1070 AD).

Later, Morocco took in Muslim and Jewish refugees (we passed a ruined synagogue on the way in) when in 1492 AD the Spaniards reconquered their lands from the Andalusian empire and booted out its minorities. Throughout this, the Berber have endured, new shoots being grafted onto that tree of which they are the root.

The places are (1) the Plateau of Kik, showing signs of a drought which is hitting the farming of goats, olives, almonds, and the omnipresent dates (palm trees also fill the city, being highly useful for camel traders in the past and exporters today), and the nearby villages; if you look closely at (2) you can see tents, the only home of locals whose houses were destroyed by the earthquake of September 2023 which killed 2960 and injured 5674.

(Thankfully Morocco is growing wealthier and its government cares about the well-being of its subjects, unlike the governments of some earthquake-hit countries; recovery is never going to be easy, though).

Then it was on to (3-6) a traditional Berber house where we were fed on those staples of bread and tea, and where argan oil is farmed, and (7-10) the Ourika Valley, which generates the water that is never quite enough for the thirst of the plain. This is a land filled with monkeys, foxes, wolves and camels, (so I’m told; I didn’t see any!)

In the mingling of Berber and Arab (our guide was himself mixed-race), and in the Jewish presence (unlike most Arab countries Morocco still has a Jewish population, though much smaller than before the founding of the state of Israel in 1948, to which country, and to Europe, most Moroccan Jews moved), we saw the tolerance that has always marked Morocco.

(Many Berbers were historically Jewish and this was the case since Roman times, even before Islam came to Morocco; although the state of Israel is as unpopular here as it is in every Arab country, and I saw much support for Palestine, this did not turn into widespread antisemitism, because racism is not common in Morocco).

France conquered neighbouring Algeria in 1830 and, in 1912, signed a treaty with Spain and an enforced treaty with Morocco, which meant that Morocco was divided between the two European powers; Sultan Abd al-Hafid in fact had to flee to France, so unpopular was this decision in his country.

Even those who were anti-French, though, preferred to fight for the allies in both world wars as they knew that Germany, which had been agitating in Morocco since the First Moroccan Crisis of 1905-6 (then the Agadir crisis five years later) simply wanted to replace one empire with an even worse. The First World War brought victory for France and its allies and things seemed to go back to normal.

In World War 2, the German-controlled Vichy French government, which ruled Morocco after the fall of France in 1940, was widely loathed; it tried to divide Moroccans by bringing in racist legislation of a kind not seen before or since, and (as seen in the classic film ‘Casablanca’), this was not stood for. By 1943 Morocco was freed from Vichy and was the home of the Casablanca conference of 1943 between Winston Churchill, FDR, and French Resistance leader Charles de Gaulle.

Because the war had been fought against an explicitly racist empire, because Moroccans had fought so well, and because France was so exhausted by its fighting, pressure for an independent state was irresistible. Sultan Mohammed V, who had been deposed and exiled by the French government in 1953, triumphantly bounced back as king of an independent state in 1956.

Dying in 1961, Mohammed V was succeeded by his son Hassan II, who stressed that every Moroccan has Berber “cells” and who began recognition of the Berbers; the teaching of the Berber language in state schools began in his reign in 1995, and he reigned until dying and being succeeded by his son Hassan II in 1999.

Older generations spoke only Berber and mostly could not read or write any language; the slightly younger grew up under “Arabisation”, schooled in Arabic and partly French, scorning Berber as the tongue of village women; however, even in Hassan II’s day this had begun to change and Berber is now acknowledged, especially in places like (9) Setti Fatma, but in cities too.

The 2011 constitution, which acknowledged Berber as an official language, was thus a recognition of facts on the ground. The young have found a balance which the old could not, as the motto “God, Family, King” is accepted by almost everyone, Arab, Berber, Jewish, and migrants from sub-Saharan Africa (who make up around 2-3% of the population), now living in Morocco.

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